Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Not possible,” she says with a laugh, and I realize she thinks I’m joking.
“Outside of your professed antipathy for a committed relationship, what else would hold you back?” She tilts her head, considering, but I throw out options. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”
She smirks. “You’re hot as hell. Any woman would be proud.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “I’m not interesting enough outside of the bed.”
“You know that’s not true,” she chastises.
“I get it,” I press, mischief evident. “You’re afraid of what your brother would think.”
“Rafferty would be totally fine with it and he doesn’t have a say-so anyway.”
“So, if I called Rafferty right now and told him I wanted to ask you out on a date…?”
I let the question dangle.
“Go for it,” she replies, giving me a pat and calling my bluff.
“Then you don’t like romance,” I conclude with an exaggerated sigh. “I’d give you flowers all the time and whisper compliments to you nonstop. What girl doesn’t want that?”
Her expression softens for a split second before she shakes her head, the walls going back up. “That’s a sweet offer, North. But I’m not interested in all that fluff. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
I choose not to believe her, but I let it slide.
For now.
“All right. Where do you want to go next?”
She hesitates, then tilts her head toward my truck. “Your place.”
I nod, but as I follow her to the car, one thought sticks in my mind… I’m going to have to try something extreme to get through to her.
CHAPTER 12
North
This could be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, or it could be the worst, but I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’m committed.
Telling Rafferty about Farren is the right thing to do. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I pace my living room. It’s not about asking for permission or seeking approval—it’s about being honest. If I want something real with her, sneaking around behind Rafferty’s back isn’t the way to do it.
Besides that, Farren practically dared me to do it, so confident is she in her absolute refusal to have something meaningful.
The problem is, Rafferty Abrams isn’t just any guy. He’s my teammate, my friend, and one of the most loyal men I’ve ever met. If there’s one thing I know about Raff, it’s that he loves his sister fiercely, and I crossed a line with her that could ruin my friendship with him.
But I can’t keep this a secret anymore and while I know Farren doesn’t want to go public, she doesn’t seem to have a problem with Rafferty knowing.
I grab my jacket, step outside into the crisp Pittsburgh morning, and head for the arena gym. We have a full day off, something that doesn’t happen all too often as there’s always something needed like practice skates, video review or rehabilitation. But we’ve been playing so well lately and we’re leading our conference, so Coach gave us a day to relax.
Most of us have gym memberships near our homes for convenience but nothing beats the Titans’ facility. Everything is state of the art and it’s so spacious, you never have to wait for a machine or set of weights. I had texted Raff first thing this morning to see if he was up for an early-morning workout and we agreed on ten.
I find him already warming up on one of the treadmills when I arrive and I join him, kicking the speed up to match his pace.
“Good time last night?” he asks, glancing at me.
Oh, did I ever. The things Farren and I did to each other at my house after the nightclub would be considered illegal in most states. “Yeah, good time.”
“I heard Farren sneaking in around four this morning.” Rafferty gives me a pointed look and it never occurred to me he might have a suspicion about us.
Which makes this conversation very timely.
“I gave her a ride last night. We went clubbing.”
Rafferty cocks an eyebrow at me. “You? Clubbing?”
“Your sister can be persuasive,” I grouse as I plod along on the treadmill. “And I want to talk to you about her.”
Jabbing at the button on his machine, he brings it to a stop and turns to face me. I keep walking, needing to channel some nervous energy, especially because I see a glint of something dangerous in Rafferty’s eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“I’ve been seeing her,” I say evenly, meeting his eyes, and because I don’t like the look in them, I cut off my treadmill too. If he’s going to throw a punch, I need to be ready.
But he doesn’t say a word. Just stares at me. And now I’m compelled to fill the silence. “It’s casual.”
Rafferty blinks a few times, tilting his head as if he can’t believe what he heard. “What the fuck do you mean, you’ve been seeing her? And what does casual mean?”